…before I continue, should I say resilience instead of fortitude..?
…Oh right, I meant to talk about how do I actually get by everyday, sans the brilliance, of course. I wanted to avoid even mentioning about “getting by” because those words almost seemed like surrendered utterance describing the sad state of our lives as some pointless run-of-the-mill exercise, not in futility, but ironically rather for crucial sustenance, something as farcical as grinding our gears for the sake of keeping the gears grinding …perhaps, even the ‘thing’ that which further ontologically reinforces the belief that whatever I have been doing is indeed my most natural course of action, self affirming and all the while self-denying.
I truly am thankful, don’t get me wrong.
It’s just that lately I started to recognize the choice that I made and its resultant consequences has multifaceted implications. So I was about to share such insight, my epiphany, I suppose, to you all—Yet I realized as the older I get, the less I get to write, no, the less I get to write freely; not because I lacked the time to think and ponder upon matters important to me, as a matter of fact, time is the lone possession that after my trade(off) that I have substantially more of when comparing to others.
I suppose I simply am not convinced that its gainful labor to put what is on my mind into walls of text that is neither concise nor pristine. (not yet anyway.) This issue concerning…um, quality? Has continuously gaining the upper-hand when it is paired with creativity. It’s truly a skill that needs to be mastered, the understanding and its resultant dexterity discerning when is the most opportune time to open up the gates of the judging hell, and let the editor come in, armed with the sword of preconceived notion on one hand and the shield of malevolent perfectionism on the other…
It’s mightily perplexing to me because considering my years on learning, studying and training free-improvisation and musicianship during university and my following wilderness years has already examine the subject of our psyche in an exhaustive manner. I precisely knew what needs to be done, in theory anyway. Memory is a double-edged sword when it comes to judging, and I tend to fall upon it multiple times. For pleasure, why, of course.
And before I senselessly babble on furthermore, the solution is acceptance, without any doubt. (…?) It is broken, it is bad, but it is what I do. And doing what you do is the point, as far as I can tell; because you are being what you can be, no, what you ought to be. I firmly, staunchly abide with this declaration for as long as I recognized its existence, thus it’s somewhat humorous, whimsical even that I have been telling everyone and comforting them when they failed to achieve that they don’t have to be the best, they simply have to be their best, yet I started to see How I myself did’t really believe in what I say.
Do let me elaborate: I don’t think I am unique that I have several modes of operation and would change as situation requires. I pretty sure we can divide it into 2 to 50 levels, kind of like Scientology, but lets stop at 3: At the lowest, shallowest (yet the most far-reaching) there is this professional(functional) level where for the sake of the flow(whatever that is supposed to mean) all inquiries that might warrant further investigation I simply would give responses that are most useful yet least pertinent. I have yet to find the möbius loop-as far as I am concerned the scale of usefulness and relevance is factually dualistic.
The next level is both contentious and tempestuous. Because the cause, whatever it is has actually (for once!) warrant further instruction, explanation, or both. The stakes are higher, thus so are your ante. These are the moments where you would constantly (re)examine its risk-reward analysis. This is also a simple question “is it worth it?” would drive anyone insane. Because at the end of the stick (no matter how short it is) is what is held dear to you. Sometimes its something tangible, say, people, or things. To me, it’s some absurd ideas that I valued, things like honor, integrity, respect. No matter. Whatever they are, and more importantly, however you definite them, sadly, are not absolute, and their rank can be altered.
The ultimate level is religious. No, I am not talking about our Lord Jesus Christ; I am talking about things that we do which are beyond reason and logic. We would do them anyway, regardless. I suppose sometimes things, or people would get into this level of conviction. Perhaps. To me usually this is where those value I mentioned just before lies. Veracity. Constancy. Goodness. Doing what is right. Not therefore you can get a pat on the back—let it be your boss, or your wife, or your son, or your friends, or your God, but simply because you have acted how you are designed to act, naturally—and that is the only way to avoid our great (predestined) tragedy: Instead in our perfect forms manifesting, we are drowning in our own blemished existence.
it is important
to reach for the stars
despite you realized these hands which we own
can hardly caress the treetops.
it is just as important
to look around and use your arms
to embrace, to comfort others
which is just as heroic,
if not nobler.